Torn between wanting to just be Ronny Elliott for a living and worrying about ego and self importance, I struggle to work. I've been accused lately of narcissism and being self absorbed; taking myself too seriously. Boy, I hope that's not right.
One day I was trying to read a blog online and a window opened and asked, "Hey, do you want to start your own blog?"
"Well, sure," I thought, "why not?"
My career choices have been made in haste but, for the most part, I've stuck to the plan. I wanted to play rock'n'roll to pick up girls. I never picked up girls but I keep playing.
I'm not deaf. I can hear that I'm no Pavarotti. I'm no George Gershwin, either. I've got messages. You heard them when you were in Sunday school. I'm just here to remind you. I tend to carry on about love, too. Evidence suggests that I'm no authority there.
It's been pointed out to me that I use a lot of photos of myself. Well, yeah, I guess I do. When you go out and play music, folks tend to send you pictures of yourself. I don't want to be one of those nuts from the sixth grade who carried his own pictures in his wallet but if I go to You Tube to find Fats Domino I expect to see Fats while his music plays.
Don't misunderstand me, now. I'm glad to be warned. If I get too uppity here, you let me know. I love you.